The Quarry by Fish Robert L.;

Author:Fish, Robert L.;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road

CHAPTER SIX

Thursday—7:25 A.M.

Clancy came out of the bathroom, shaved and dressed, if not particularly rested, to find that Kaproski had already located the orange juice in the refrigerator, had coffee perking merrily on the stove and toast ticking along in the toaster, and was bending interestedly over the morning newspaper which he had retrieved from the mat before the front door. Clancy stared in admiration.

“Kap, someday you’re going to make some man a good wife.”

“Yeah,” Kaproski said, looking up from the headlines with a grin. “Me and Mary Kelly, huh, Lieutenant?” His eyes dropped back to the front page of the newspaper. “They got a big spread here about that Blount deal last night. That was a real cute trick he pulled, meeting his wife in that cab, and holding the rod on the driver, huh, Lieutenant?”

“Real cute,” Clancy said bitterly. “Those stupid, stupid, cops …!”

Kaproski looked at him, surprised. “Well, hell, Lieutenant, it was cute. They couldn’t help—” Comprehension suddenly dawned on him. “What’s the matter, Lieutenant?” he asked solicitously. “Didn’t you sleep good on that couch?”

“You ought to know how that couch is for sleeping,” Clancy said shortly. He shook his head. “I slept all right, I guess; at least up until just before it was time to get up. Then I had one of those half-awake, half-asleep brainstorms.…” He pulled a chair around to the front of the kitchen table and sat down, reaching for the orange juice. “A real dilly.…” He started to drink and then paused, setting his glass down again half full. And then frowned, staring at the glass of juice with narrowed eyes, not seeing it. “I wonder …”

He pushed back from the table and walked into the bedroom, picked up the telephone, and dialed a familiar number. The phone at the other end rang endlessly, but Clancy continued to wait. At long last the receiver was lifted and a sleepy voice answered.

“Hello? Hello? Who in hell is calling at this hour?” There was a momentary pause; when the voice continued it was charged with outraged and honest indignation. “Hey! I just looked at the clock! Who in hell is calling at this hour?”

“Wake up, Porky,” Clancy said evenly. “I want to meet with you.”

“Oh.” There was a deep yawn. Clancy could visualize the other in his silk pajamas eying the telephone malevolently. “Mr. C., I recognize that happy voice. Your wide-awake voice, I might mention with disgust. But it’s still the middle of the night, Mr. C. You want to remember that in my profession we don’t keep the same regular hours that you do in yours.”

“In twenty minutes,” Clancy said.

“Twenty minutes?” The shock momentarily deprived Porky of his vocal cords. “Mr. C., do you have any idea what time I went to bed last night? This morning, that is?”

“And I couldn’t care less,” Clancy said, and meant it. “I have to see you right away, Porky. You know the conditions of our deal. You have to take the good with the bad.

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